


Monofocused Versus Multitasker

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Background Shane Madej/Sara Rubin, Embarrassment, Exhibitionism, Intimacy, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Watching, Talking About Peeing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 04:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: When you start dating someone, you learn things about them, whether you want to or not.





	Monofocused Versus Multitasker

**Author's Note:**

> There is no graphic peeing in this, but there is talk of peeing. I will add new tags, if necessary!

Ryan learned a lot of things about Shane, when the two of them gained a new level of intimacy.

Although when he said “gained a new level of intimacy,” it had its own implications.

It made them sound like they were a video game or something like that, versus fucking and calling their Netflix and popcorn hangouts “dates.” 

But… well… Ryan was learning some things.

Mostly, he was learning that Shane didn’t really _do_ certain kinds of boundaries.

Like peeing.

Ryan was brushing his teeth one morning, after a night full of sex, only for Shane to just… walk in, drop trou, and piss.

Ryan was a bit too shocked to say anything, just… kept brushing his teeth.

“You have really cold feet,” Shane said, as he pissed.

“W-what?”

Ryan tried not to stare. 

“Your feet. You woke me up with them three times last night.”

“You’ve slept next to me before,” Ryan protested. “You knew how cold my feet were before you hopped into the sack with me.” 

“You’re not usually barefoot, or tucking said bare feet onto my _bare knees_ ,” Shane groused, as he shook his dick off, then wiped and flushed. 

Ryan tried not to stare.

“Aren’t you, like, weird about peeing with the door open?”

“It doesn’t count if you’re here,” said Shane, as if that made sense.

“Why are you peeing literally _right in front of me_?!”

“You had my dick down your throat last night,” said Shane, as he washed his hands, pushing Ryan to the side on the sink. “I figure the shock of seeing it isn’t going to send you gibbering off into the aether.”

“It’s too early in the day to say words like “aether,” you know that, right?”

“It’s never too early,” Shane said, shaking his hands out, then pausing. “Um. I don’t… have a toothbrush.”

“Use your finger,” said Ryan, because he was blushing very hard, and not entirely sure.

He had a boner, but, well… morning wood.

He could tell himself that’s why. 

“Would it be weird if I kept a toothbrush here, or would that be jumping the gun?”

“I mean,” said Ryan, “you’ve slept here before.”

“Well, yeah, but there’s a difference between… you know, sleeping over, versus keeping a toothbrush.”

“You’ve slept over six times in the past two months. It’s got nothing to do with… commitment or whatever, just… your breath not smelling bad.” Ryan pointed out. “I know some people would prefer it if you would brush your teeth in the beginning of the day.”

“You’re always making jokes about how tall I am. Who’s gonna smell my breath from up here?”

“You end up polluting the air around you, like a crop duster.”

“A crop duster,” Shane said, his voice deadpan.

“Exactly,” said Ryan. “So brush your teeth.”

“Can I have some toothpaste, at least?”

“Gimme your finger,” said Ryan, holding out his toothpaste.

He squeezed a dollop of it onto Shane’s finger, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as Shane rubbed the finger against his teeth.

Fuck, this was… this was some kind of intimacy too.

It was like watching Shane piss, almost.

Some kind of intense, delicate intimacy.

He spat out the toothpaste, and then he took a swig of water, gargling and spitting.

“Thanks,” Shane said, his voice garbled. 

"You can keep a toothbrush here," Ryan said, and he cleared his throat.

He had _such_ a boner right now - was an intimacy boner, like, a thing?

He didn't have a thing for someone peeing near him, as far as he knew, but... well, what even was going on?

"You want me to make you breakfast?"

Shane was still standing with Ryan, hip to hip.

Ryan was wearing a pair of boxers, and Shane had on sweatpants - they were thin, and the fabric was soft against Ryan's bare leg.

"Sure," said Ryan. "If, uh... if you don't mind."

"Why would I mind? I literally offered it."

"I mean, yeah, but... you never know."

Shane leaned forward, taking a handful of water, swishing, and spitting.

Then he leaned over, and he kissed Ryan on the mouth, his mouth minty and warm. 

Ryan kissed him back. 

"You need to get out of your own head," Shane said, tapping Ryan on the temple.

Ryan opened his mouth for some kind of snappy comeback - maybe _don't pee when I'm in the same room, who even does that?!_ \- but nothing came.

He kissed Shane, cupping Shane's cheek, Shane's stubble rough against his palm.

"You need to shave," Ryan said.

"I thought you liked it when I have a beard," Shane said. 

"I know Sara hates it," said Ryan, "and I'm beginning to get why."

"Mmm?"

Shane rubbed his bristly chin against Ryan's neck, and Ryan made an indignant noise, squirming.

"You're gonna give me beard burn," Ryan said.

"God forbid," Shane said, his tone deadpan.

He pressed a kiss to Ryan's neck, leaving Ryan tingling, and then he was off, presumably to go make food.

Ryan stood in the bathroom, and then he made a face.

His breakfast was going to taste weird, and he... had a boner.

Not that Shane would be offended by a boner, obviously, but... still.

It was the principle of the thing.

Or maybe he was overthinking it.

He made a face in the mirror.

Things were simpler, when he was just neurotic and repressed.

At least he wasn't as repressed anymore?

He sighed, and then he made his way to the kitchen.

* * * 

Ryan... Ryan wasn't interested in piss.

He knew that much - thinking of Shane pissing on him, or thinking of pissing on Shane wasn't doing anything for him.

But as the days went on, Ryan would just be doing something - getting a cup of coffee, working on a script, buying groceries - and then he'd remember the sensation of watching Shane next to him.

It was the... watching.

Watching something intimate, watching something he wasn't necessarily supposed to see.

And that was weird to think about.

He was, admittedly, interested in watching more than being seen.

They'd even commented, on that one episode where they got makeovers, about how all of Ryan's clothes screamed "don't look at me."

Although then again, there was the fact that even Ryan surprised himself with the bulk of his biceps, which brought on more attention than he'd expected.

But he liked to watch.

Not... like, in a sexy way, per se.

He just liked to people watch!

It was one reason he was so interested in film!

"Ryan?"

Shane tapped Ryan on the shoulder, and Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Are you okay?"

Shane looked down at Ryan, and he was wearing a worried expression. 

Ryan was sitting at his desk, staring off into space, the cursor of his word program blinking at him.

Shane was holding two cups of coffee, although he was frowning, just a bit. 

"Sorry," Ryan said. "Spaced out."

"Evidently," Shane said. "I was gonna offer you a refill, but I don't think you need one."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryan said, and he grabbed the coffee, taking a slug of it.

It was hot, and the caffeine surged through him.

That was... faintly unpleasant, but also, it was _good_.

Yeah, he needed that. 

Okay.

Back to his script.

Shane patted Ryan on the head. 

"You still want to come over tonight? Sara’s out, and I could use the company.”

"Sure," Ryan said, distracted.

Shane snorted, and patted Ryan on the head again, then settled into his own desk.

Ryan watched Shane out of the corner of his eye, trying to be subtle.

He'd been doing that more often - just... watching Shane.

Well, no.

That wasn't exactly right.

He was _noticing_ that he was watching Shane. 

He did that a lot, didn't he?

Admittedly, part of it was just the whole pining thing - he'd been carrying a torch for Shane for who even knew how long, and now, when he looked at Shane, he could remember what Shane looked like naked, or right after he'd cum, or with Ryan's mouth around his cock.

Ryan blushed, trying to ignore his burgeoning erection, and then he was back to typing, letting himself drown in the words flying across his screen.

* * *

"What kinda porn do you like?"

Ryan had intended to say... well, anything else, really, but that had popped out of his mouth.

Shane started his car, looking sidelong at Ryan.

"I've got a pretty diverse palate, as far as porn viewing is concerned," said Shane. "Why?"

"I was just wondering," said Ryan. 

Shane raised an eyebrow.

"What brought you down that particular train of thought?"

"Well, uh, since, y'know, since w're now this level of closeness, I think it'd be... interesting, to, uh... to learn things about you."

"Learn things about me," Shane echoed. "You don't think that's a little personal?"

"How is that any more personal than you peeing in front of me?"

Shane frowned.

"Are you still bothered by that?"

Shane's eyes were on his steering wheel now, and he was blushing. 

"I'm not bothered," Ryan said quickly.

"I wasn't thinking about it," Shane said. "Because, y'know, me and Sara, we're both comfortable with that kind of thing, and I've known you about as long, so I guess I figured it'd be okay."

"You pee in front of Sara?"

"Yeah," said Shane. "We've only got one bathroom, and she likes to take long showers."

"Right," said Ryan. "Makes sense."

He blushed. 

So Shane held him and Sara on the same level.

That was nice, if heady, in a way that he didn't know how to put into words.

He licked his lips, and he glanced over at Shane again.

"I'm not bothered," Ryan said. "It's just, uh... made me... made me realize some stuff."

"Stuff," Shane echoed. "What kind of stuff?"

"Just... stuff."

"I gotta ask, how is it any different than you and I pissing at a urinal together?"

"It just kinda is," said Ryan. "You can see everything, when you do that."

"You could see anything if you were at a urinal as well," Shane pointed out.

"It was a home bathroom. Only one toilet."

"I guess," said Shane. "So what kinda stuff did you realize?"

"Like I said. Just stuff."

"Was this, like... are you realizing a new fetish or something?"

"No," Ryan said quickly. "Obviously not, that'd be weird."

Shane shrugged.

"There's nothing wrong with having a fetish," he pointed out. "I'm okay with going along with whatever."

"I don't want you to pee on me," Ryan said. 

"You sure? You seem a bit fixated."

"I'm not fixated on you peeing me," said Ryan. 

"Do you want to pee on me?"

"There is no peeing involved!"

"Okay, okay, sheesh," said Shane, and he laughed. "You sound pretty defensive, for someone who's not interested in being peed on."

"I liked watching you," Ryan burst out.

"You liked watching me pee?"

Shane sounded slightly nonplussed.

"Not the peeing, just the... the watching," said Ryan, and he cleared his throat.

Welp.

There it was.

Out in the open.

"So you liked watching me pee, because you like watching me?"

"... something like that."

"Huh," said Shane.

He didn't seemed too weirded out, which was a surprise. 

"Sorry," Ryan said, because he felt like he had to. 

"Don't be," said Shane, and he patted Ryan on the knee. "It's not that weird. Ted Cruz likes voyeurism porn!"

"Oh _god_ ," said Ryan. "You're not helping."

"Admittedly, that was also incest porn," Shane added, as he turned on his turn signal. 

"Can you not compare me to Ted Cruz, please?"

There was a note of desperation in Ryan's voice.

"Sorry," said Shane. "You're nothing like Ted Cruz."

"Thank you."

"So you... what, wanna watch me watch porn?"

"I was actually thinking about, um... well, okay. It's a bit convoluted."

"You, convoluted? Perish the thought."

Ryan stuck his tongue out at Shane.

Shane smirked, and Ryan desperately wanted to kiss him. 

He wasn’t going to kiss Shane when they were driving like this, obviously, but… still.

“God you’re an asshole,” Ryan said.

“Yep,” said Shane. “Tell me your convoluted thought process.”

“Only if you’re not going to compare me to Ted Cruz again.”

“Are you about to tell me about how you’ve got a thing for voyeuristic incest porn?”

“No! Well… not incest.”

“So you like voyeurism?”

“Can you let me finish a thought?”

“RIght, right,” said Shane. “Sorry.”

He didn’t look it, but Ryan had never really seen Shane look sorry. 

“So I was thinking about, y’know, my new… interest, and then there was the fact that your porn says a lot about your own interests, but then it ended up kinda… skipping a few steps.”

“A few steps,” Shane said. 

“Right,” said Ryan.

“Well,” said Shane. “So… what, you want to watch me?”

“... that’s the long and the short of it, yep,” said Ryan, in a slightly strangled voice.

“I’m the long, you’re the short, so it makes sense,” Shane said, looking far too pleased with himself.

“I _cannot_ believe you just said that,” Ryan said, speaking straight up to the heavens.

"Why not? It's perfectly in character for me," said Shane. 

"I keep hoping, somehow, that you'll get better," Ryan said.

"Do you think some day you'll kiss me at just the right moment, and there'll be a riot of colors and fireworks, and where I was standing, there will be a beautifully generic Disney prince?"

They were pulling into the parking lot in front of Shane's building, and Ryan was having a flutter of... something other, in the pit of his stomach.

"I dunno," said Ryan. "I always thought that the beast was more attractive as... y'know, a beast."

"What happened to you not realizing you were attracted to men until you were in your late twenties?"

Shane turned the car off, and he stretched, carefully, his arms behind his head and his back arching.

"I can find like how someone looks without thinking that, y'know, I wanna take 'em down to bonetown or something like that," said Ryan, indignant.

Shane snorted, clearly amused.

"Fair enough, fair enough," said Shane. "A thousand pardons."

Ryan reached out, and he squeezed Shane's knee. 

"But, uh, yeah," said Shane, and he cleared his throat. "If you want to... y'know, watch me do stuff, regardless of what it is... feel free."

"Right," said Ryan.

He was blushing again.

Why was he blushing so hard?

God, it wasn't as if this was even that weird of a kink, as far as kinks were concerned.

But here he was blushing and squirming like some kind of blushing virgin, which he very much was _not_.

"So," said Shane, and he was looking Ryan up and down, one eyebrow up, "anything you'd like to do tonight?"

"How about... how about you show me some of the porn you like?"

"Sure," said Shane. "Totally doable. Just like me!"

He gave a big, juicy wink and a goofy thumbs up, and Ryan groaned, leaning forward and pressing his face into the dashboard.

"I hate you so much," Ryan told the floor of Shane's car.

"No you don't," said Shane, and he clapped Ryan on the shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get to watchin' some dirty videos."

"It sounds so sordid when you say it like that," Ryan complained, as he unbuckled his seat belt, grabbing his laptop bag and getting out of the car, stretching his legs out. 

"What's sordid about a couple of bros being pals and watching porn together?"

Shane had his keys in one hand, and he was practically _whistling_ as he walked towards the front of his building.

Ryan looked at him sidelong, his expression thoughtful. 

"You've got a thing for being watched, don't you?"

"I might have a bit of a thing for it, yeah," Shane said. "Or maybe I'm just getting all hot and bothered over the idea of you watching me get off in the first place."

"You think?"

"It certainly is an interesting theory," said Shane. "I may even pursue it. Do you have any other weird kinks?"

"This isn't even that weird, in the scheme of things!"

Ryan's voice cracked, just a bit, as he hurried after Shane.

Those ridiculous bone stilts ended up leaving Ryan trailing behind, half the time.

"Of course not," Shane said, in what was probably an attempt at being reassuring. "Even -"

"If you say Ted Cruz one more time, I swear to fucking... Mothman, I will turn around and walk out."

Shane mimed zipping his mouth shut, and he unlocked the front door.

Ryan followed after him, first into the lobby of the building, then into Shane's apartment. 

"What do you want to watch?"

"Before we watch anything, I'm going to take my shoes off and just sit down for a few minutes," said Shane, and he suited actions to words, flopping onto the couch like a puppet with its strings cut, sprawled out like a cat.

He was certainly appealing like this - all long limbs, the overhead light casting interesting shadows across his craggy face.

Ryan wanted to just stand back and admire Shane, trace the lines of Shane's profile with his eyes, watch the play of shadows and light as they danced across Shane's hair.

Then Shane looked over him, his expression somewhere between bashful and amused.

"You like what you see?"

He gestured to himself with one big hand.

Ryan might have planned to say something snarky, but all that came out was " _god_ , yes," which was more sincere than he intended it to be.

He blushed, and Shane blushed as well, rubbing the back of his own neck. 

"Well," Shane said, and he cleared his throat.

"Hm?"

"Let's watch some porn," said Shane. "C'mon, gimme your laptop."

"Why are we using my laptop?"

Ryan handed his laptop bag over anyway, because right now, he'd do almost anything that Shane asked him, up to and including manslaughter.

... that was a trippy thing to think about. 

"Because I wanna change the script a little bit," said Shane, taking the laptop out, opening it up, and turning it on. 

"How are we changing the script, exactly?"

"Well," said Shane, and then he frowned. "Can you stop just standing there? You're looming, just a bit."

"I think that you're the last person in the world who can really complain about looming," said Ryan, but he perched on the edge of the chair, carefully, his eyes on Shane's face.

"You need to put your password in," Shane said, indicating the screen of Ryan's laptop.

"Hm? Oh!"

That was easy enough - Ryan tapped it in, fingers dancing over the keys, and then he was handing it back, his hands only shaking a little bit.

Wow, but he was worked up over all of this.

Really worked up.

Stupidly worked up.

His heart was beating in his ears, and his cock was already throbbing in his jeans. 

"Now," said Shane, wriggling to get comfortable, "I am going to find out what it is that you stroke it to, Ryan S. Bergara."

"Oh my god, Shane," Ryan said, and he was laughing, self conscious and horny, amused in spite of himself.

"I have been curious, I will say that," said Shane, as he opened up the internet. 

"I watch porn on incognito, dumbass," Ryan said.

"Then how come your browser still autocompletes when I put in PornHub?"

"... goddamn it," said Ryan. "But, uh... hold on."

He cleared his throat, and then he gestured for his laptop.

Shane handed it over, looking faintly interested.

Ryan was biting his own lip as he typed in the familiar web address, then signed in.

"Here," he told Shane. "Here is all of the sordid porn that I have watched. Have at it."

"You have an actual membership?"

"... yeah."

"I'm impressed," said Shane, and he whistled. "This is some top shelf stuff, I gotta say."

"Top shelf," Ryan echoed. "In a brown paper wrapper?"

"Not these days, it ain't," said Shane, and then he was beginning to page through various videos, the laptop resting on his thighs, his hand already drifting between his legs, tracing along the line of his erection, which was bulging through the red of his chinos.

Ryan bit his lip a little harder, as Shane clicked on a random video.

"So," Shane said, "for someone who didn't seem to realize that they were a voyeur, you sure have a lot of voyeur porn in your viewing history."

"... I can be a little clueless, okay?"

Ryan cleared his throat.

He didn't like the way he was squeaking.

"It's one of the many reasons we love ya, Ryan," Shane said, in what was probably meant to be a condescending tone of voice.

Ryan blushed harder.

Oh _god_ , he did not have it in him right now to ruminate over all of these feelings, which were happening literally all at once.

His stomach was like a cauldron of arousal and feelings, with some butterflies mixed in.

God, that was a stupid simile. 

He was too old to get this embarrassed, or this giddy.

"So you're really okay with me just... watching you from here?"

"Sure," said Shane. "If you want to watch, I mean. If you want to join in, I'm all for that, too."

"I think I just want to... I think I just want to watch, for now," Ryan said. 

God, but he felt like some kind of sick pervert saying that.

"This one looks like fun," Shane said, and then he was clicking a video - Ryan couldn't see it, the screen was facing away from him - and then there was noise.

It was video noise - the mics for this particular porn shoot weren't particularly good, but he didn't mind.

In a weird way, it was part of the appeal.

He liked videos that felt like they were made by someone just... watching, instead of a whole production.

Not that he had anything against produced porn - far from it, he'd enjoyed those many times!

But there was something about the less polished stuff that always seemed to do... something for him. 

He liked the authenticity (or at least, the appearance of authenticity - he worked in entertainment, and he knew that authenticity could be just as faked as anything else for the camera) of it - the lack of polish, the stretch marks and pauses to laugh or make dumb jokes.

But Shane's eyes were on the screen now, and he was reaching a hand up, running his fingers through his hair.

Shane always did that when he was feeling especially... energetic.

Horny, angry, excited... Shane's hands went to his hair.

His other hand was still rubbing himself through his pants.

Ryan squirmed in his seat, and he was grinding the heel of his hand against the head of his cock.

It was going to start leaking soon - he was already sticky in his boxers, and he didn't want to have to worry about the mess on the outside of his pants.

But also... fuck, this was like something out of a fantasy.

Shane was pretty much ignoring him, and that made this all seem that much more... illicit.

As if they hadn't agreed to do this, as if he was hiding in a closet when he shouldn't have been, instead of sitting a few feet away.

As if Shane wasn't at all aware of his presence, and was just... doing his own thing.

The woman on screen moaned, and Shane unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned his pants, drawing the zipper down.

The sound of the zipper was very loud in the quiet living room.

Shane drew his cock out, and he was just... shoving his shirt over his belly, over his chest, holding it up with his chin.

Now _that_ was debauched.

Shane's cock was pink, the tip damp, and it was right up against Shane's belly. 

Ryan wanted to get on his knees, he wanted to wrap his hand around Shane's cock.

But what he wanted, more than anything else, was to stay glued to that chair, watching Shane jerk off. 

Shane’s long fingers were just… casually curled around his cock, his thumb stroking under the head, occasionally squeezing.

Ryan squirmed, spreading his legs wider, leaning forward, resting grinding into his hand.

Shane wasn’t even really… stroking himself, as such, just casually rubbing his thumb along his frenulum. 

His face was getting pinker, and he would occasionally dart his tongue out to lick his lips.

He glanced over at Ryan, and then he winked.

Oh _god_.

“You should take your dick out,” Shane said, casually, as he collected his pre-cum with his fingers, spreading it along his shaft, beginning to stroke.

Ryan cleared his throat.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Shane said. “Unless part of the whole thing is cumming in your pants, in which case… I can lend you a pair of pants.”

“I don’t think your pants would fit me,” said Ryan.

“So take your dick out,” said Shane, “or I’ll have to hem _my_ pants, and you’ll never want to be seen with me again, if you knew how bad at sewing I am.”

“Of course,” Ryan said, his voice deadpan. “Because sewing ability is always the first thing I look for in a partner.”

“Oh, obviously,” said Shane. ‘If I may get back to my porn?”

“Of course,” said Ryan, and he was bit his lip, licking his lips. “Don’t let me keep you from your… uh….”

Ryan trailed off.

“Right,” said Shane, and he settled back into the couch, readjusting the computer, beginning to stroke his cock again, with more force this time. 

The head of his cock was wet, and it was making filthy, sloppy sounds.

Ryan’s eyes were on Shane’s hand, as Shane began to roll his hips, fucking his own fist. 

God, that was… that was really fucking hot.

Shane was biting his lip, his face going tight, his eyes still on the screen, and he was beginning to turn red.

His cock was getting darker, beginning to swell in his hand, and Shane was licking his own palm, and he was stroking with renewed vigor. 

Shane was a quiet masturbator - the sounds from the laptop were louder.

And then… Shane moaned.

A loud, full throated moan, and Ryan jumped, visibly startled, his eyes going to Shane’s face. 

“Sorry,” said Shane, and he looked sheepish. “I figured this was, uh… this might be boring, since I’m not exactly fun to watch or anything.”

“That is… that is, like, the farthest thing from the truth _ever_ ,” Ryan said, with feeling. “You don’t have to… like, put on a show or anything. I just like watching. It’s… it’s okay.”

“Right,” said Shane. “Just feelin’ kinda selfish here, y’know?”

“No,” said Ryan. “It’s great. It’s great. I promise.”

“It must be pretty great, if you’re repeating yourself like that,” said Shane. 

His expression was somewhere between amused and confused.

“You’re one to talk,” Ryan fired back.

“Give me one time I’ve repeated myself,” Shane said, sitting up, his dick still in hand, his expression indignant. 

“Could we maybe talk about this, like… _later_ ,” Ryan said, and he rubbed his own cock for emphasis.

“Right,” said Shane, and he leaned back into the couch again. “If it makes you feel any better, I get this distracted when I’m masturbating… like, regularly. Normally.”

“Do you?”

“Oh yeah,” said Shane. “I admire your ability to monofocus - I feel like you get your masturbation done a lot… quicker.”

“Is quicker a good thing?”

“Not when you want to _enjoy_ yourself,” Shane said, and he did something complex with his wrist, around the head of his cock, and his hips stuttered forward. 

“F-fair enough,” Ryan said, his voice thick. “Can I keep… can I keep watching you?”

“Of course,” said Shane. “Right. Sorry. I feel like I keep ruining your fantasy.”

“You’re not, you’re… you’re not, I promise, god, this is fucking _amazing_ ,” said Ryan. 

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Shane said, and he gave an aborted little laugh, his hips jerking forward again, as he squeezed harder, beginning to stroke himself again, harder.

Ryan bit his lip, and he kept watching Shane’s hand, kept watching Shane’s face, as Shane leaned back into the couch, his eyes on the screen again.

Shane began to stroke himself off in earnest now, and he was panting, his whole face red, beginning to shine with the beginnings of sweat.

It was quiet again - the noises on the screen had gone mostly quiet, and Shane was panting now, and the wet noises from his cock had gotten louder, as Ryan began to jerk himself off, and this was hurried, desperate, because Shane was getting there, Shane was almost cresting the hill.

God, Shane had a lovely face, and Shane was just… captivated in the porn, leaning forward, beginning to shake.

Then… then the sound was turned off, and Ryan could hear Shane.

Mainly Shane’s panting, and the wet sound of Shane’s hand on his cock, which had gotten louder, as he fucked his fist.

Ryan glanced at Shane, and Shane made a quick bit of eye contact, blushing just a bit.

“I figured you might wanna hear me,” Shane said, “without, like, fake noises.”

“Right,” said Ryan. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” said Shane, as he settled back in, his eyes on the screen again.

Ryan kept glancing between Shane’s fist and Shane’s hand; the way that the head of Shane’s cock would appear and disappear, throbbing and purple, slick and catching the light. 

It was fucking mesmerizing, and Ryan’s cock was beginning to throb like a broken tooth, pushing him towards his orgasm. 

Shane seemed to be completely swept up in the porn he was watching - he didn’t look at Ryan now, he just shifted his grip on his cock, occasionally licking his lips.

His shaft was coated in pre-cum by now - Ryan could see it shining, and it sounded so _wet_ , it was all so… much.

Shane’s fist sped up, and then… oh fuck, he was making eye contact with Ryan, full on eye contact, and then he was throwing his head back, and he was cumming across his knuckles, over his belly, and some of it was getting on Shane’s shirt, but who the fuck cared, because Ryan’s own hand was speeding up on his cock, humping into his fist, and then he was cumming, across his fist, across his own shirt, the pleasure pulsing through his body in bursts.

He was still shaking from the aftershocks, his thighs like rocks, his cock twitching like a tuning fork, occasionally drooling out more dabs of cum.

His eyes fluttered closed, and then they were open again, and he was still looking into Shane’s eyes, which was a level of intimacy that made his cock twitch all over again. 

He was developing weird new kinks with this gangly Sasquatch of a man. 

Goddamnit.

He sobbed, and then he groaned, because there was cum on his shirt, cum on his hand.

“I think you nearly got yourself in the chin there,” said Shane, from his spot on the couch.

He’d put the laptop to the side, and had taken off his shirt - he was using it to mop up his cummy chest.

“Wow,” said Ryan. “You savage.”

“You’re one to talk,” said Shane, and he yawned. “God, I could eat a goddamn horse.” 

“Don’t eat a horse,” said Ryan. “It’d be expensive.”

“Could we even get a horse around here?”

“I don’t know,’ said Shane, and he stood up, his knees clearly still shaking, making his way towards the bathroom.

… he didn’t close the door behind him, and Ryan blushed harder, too spent to even react. 

He’d created a monster.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? 
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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